


Requiem for the Lost and Damned

by Zimithrus1



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Poor Allen, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 07:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zimithrus1/pseuds/Zimithrus1
Summary: AU: Allen was like a wounded animal, afraid of affection or a gentle touch. In retrospect, he might as well have been an animal. With an arm and eye like his and that snow white hair, it was no wonder he was cast aside. But even through the disfigurements, Mana saw more than that in young Allen and decided to take him in. But perhaps Allen was out on the streets for a reason...A story about Mana and Allen's days as entertainers and more!(Cross-posted on ff.net)





	1. To Be Treated

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations! Welcome to my D.Gray-story, I hope you enjoy what's in store for you all :) If you're new to it, then sit back and enjoy the fic, I'll do my best to keep you entertained!
> 
> For old FF readers, just letting you know that I revamped pretty much the whole story; the chapter elements are the same, but the dialogue and most of the scenes have changed. So it's almost like reading a completely new story!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you like this little AU of mine! (I couldn't really find any fics featuring Mana and Allen's past a few years ago, so I made my own!)

**Act 1**

* * *

 

Evening was beginning to settle softly in Britain on Christmas day in the year of 1889. The clouds in the sky were thick and gray as they covered the entirety of the vast atmosphere, yet they were overcast with the brilliant colors of the setting sun from behind. The thickest and highest clouds in the sky were painted in a soft yellow color with creamy orange underbellies.

The thinner clouds containing buckets of frothy snow were blazed a fiery red with light lilac tinting near the bottom edges. It was a marvelous sight that would be over much too soon. Dusk would settle fast upon the world like the snow fixing to start.

A lavish man watched the beautifully dim sunset from inside a small cafe, sitting tall in a booth close to a window. He was sipping quietly on a creamy French vanilla blend of coffee, a small stream of steam rising lazily out of the cup and whirling slowly in the air.

Two partially-dissolved lumps of sugar silently floated in the near obsidian liquid. The man pulled his eyes away from the window long enough to steal a sip of his beverage, the brown droplets trickling off his thin mustache. His deep almond brown eyes stared at his reflection slowly swirling in the tea-shaped coffee cup.

His thick, short black hair was tucked into a silk black top hat. His facial features were rather defined: a well-defined jawline, somewhat fuller cheekbones and sharp eyes. Yet the way he held his expressions was in a kind manner; a constant smile seemed to be etched into the corners of his bow-shaped lips. Even though his eyes seemed sharp, there was a gentle softness to them, perhaps the way the light shined off the soft brown.

Even though he looked refined and quite dignified, when he was not dressed up and out on the town he was further from the rich man part. He was actually a traveling entertainer whose hometown was here in Britain. Mana Walker: a twenty-eight year old traveling clown with an endless supply of laughter and smiles tucked beneath the surface.

He took another slow sip of coffee, having to tilt the cup back just a little bit farther now. He picked up a napkin sitting to his left and dabbed it at his mouth once. A young waitress passed by, golden blonde pigtails bouncing as she walked down the aisle with a small tray in her right hand.

As he looked back out of the window, the sky was already darkening behind those thick gray clouds tinted by waning sunlight. No doubt the chill would become bitter soon.  
  
Mana turned his head back and tilted the last of his coffee into his mouth, swallowing in a satisfied manner. He gently set the cup down onto the saucer and used the napkin to dab at his mouth once more. The blonde haired waitress came back and collected his cup and plate with a soft smile. He returned the gesture as she began to walk away.

And there marked his eighth Christmas spent alone in the same diner he spent every lonely Christmas evening. He reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out twelve cents and laid it on the table next to his napkin, leaving two spare pennies for the waitress to claim for herself. He stood up from his booth and took a moment to reach and reclaim his heavy winter jacket. He slipped it on over his arms and adjusted it comfortably over his back.

With that, he made his way back to the front door of the diner, black boots clunking against the floor. He pushed open the small glass door in the front of the cafe and braced for the cold. As he stepped out into the December chill, a bell danced wildly above his head, signaling his departure from the quaint little shop. He made sure the door closed behind him softly before pulling his jacket closer his large body.

Mana set off in a westward direction to return back home, following the sun that had now disappeared and left early dusk in its wake. A few snow flurries danced from either side of him and skittered across the sidewalk. So the snow was finally beginning to fall. A green horse-drawn carriage _'clopped'_ passed in that moment, the carriage being pulled by a rather elegant looking Clydesdale horse. From across the street, A young couple laughed and held hands as they walked without a care in the world; no place to go, but going there together.

Mana was heading back to his home, where he entertained the thought of lighting his fireplace, curling up into his couch and enjoying a good book or two for the rest of his night, just like he did every Christmas night when he was in his hometown.

But for some reason, something just felt different. He slowed his pace, eventually coming to a stand-still on the snow-dusted sidewalk.

He knew he was going the right way to get home, but something was telling him to turn around and go the other way. He glanced over his shoulder, perhaps thinking he might have left something at the diner. But he had all of his possessions on him and didn’t appear to be missing anything. He shrugged before he continued to walk back home.

Although, Mana only walked two more steps before that feeling in his head became more physical. He stopped once again when he felt a slight churn in his stomach, his head practically screaming that he go back. He glanced behind him again, not seeing anything just like the first time. But the wind picked up softly and blew around his ear, as if whispering words to him.

Even though it was just the breeze, it almost sounded like a small cry: full of regret, full of longing, and full of fright.

Mana found himself turning tail and heading back the other direction he just came from, unable to ignore the symptoms of his curiosity. He hadn’t had impulses like this in quite some time, not since before his younger brother Nea died.

There had been so much mystery and confusion in the air all that time ago, things he did not understand at the time: Noah’s, Earl’s, Apostles and Dark Matter. It was all just strange and foreign. But even so, Mana hung tight to his young bother even through the misperception and the fact that he was one of those beings called Noah’s.

But soon his precious brother was killed by the other Noah’s. He died while protecting him from those strange beings and things he didn’t understand. They had been so young at the time, no older than seventeen. But for some reason, Mana believed that Nea was still alive somewhere in this world, or at least a piece of his brother remained buried deep inside himself.

It _would_ explain the amber splash in his eyes that would come and go during great periods of stress or solicitousness: A trait in which he did not possess until after his brother’s untimely demise.

That belief of his brother being alive somehow, somewhere, was the main reason he journeyed so much with his traveling circus companions. Mana knew the thought was silly and rather sad, but it was comforting too. He only stopped traveling to take a break and regain his wits.

Little did he know, his sad state would soon be put to rest and replaced with something much more bright.

Mana’s thoughts then told him to stop, so he did. Now he stood in a darker and more run-down part of town that he wasn’t all too familiar with. The buildings were nearly in shambles and the sidewalk was cracked in multiple places. The only form of life in this desolate concrete jungle was a weed or two growing up from the sidewalk cracks. His feet started to move again, his brain not even acknowledging his movements as he stepped into a dim looking alleyway.

His gut was telling him to advance further into the dark alley. He squinted against the darkness, his brown eyes trying to make out any discernable shapes in the poor lighting. So far all he could see were a few trash bins and maybe a wooden crate or two. Maybe his gut was playing a trick on him, his head too for that matter. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that coffee this late in the evening.

But his musings were brought to a halt when he picked up on a soft set of sounds coming from further down the alley. Mana began to approach the area where the soft sounds were coming from, straining his ears a bit to see if he could figure out what those sounds exactly were.

It was crying; it was quiet, but there was a certain rawness to it that made it sound weary and almost angry in a sense. For some reason, it had Mana’s chest tighten and his head started to buzz. He quickened his pace and did not worry about being heard himself. Who was crying? Why were they here?

He stopped walking when his eyes clashed with the source of the crying, now standing almost in front of it.

It was a boy.

The small child was huddled in between the protection of two empty and splintered wooden vegetable crates. His clothes were tattered and his skin was covered in scrapes, dirt, and dried blood. He was shivering; a flimsy and tattered blanket that looked more like burlap covered the front of his body. But what immediately made him stand out was the bright white hair, just like the snow falling around them. What could have caused his hair to be white like that? Marie-Antoinette Syndrome? Perhaps he came from a workhouse that allocated with chemicals or tonics and perhaps those toxic substances had altered the pigmentation in his hair?

The boy’s head was down and he was quiet, but still shivering and crying none-the-less. The big question here was why on earth was there a child here of all places or of all times? Even if he had that strange white hair, a child should not be alone at such a time in the year or in such abysmal weather.

Mana approached the shivering child slowly, his brown eyes soaking in every detail of the child that they could: The oils in the hair, how it was matted and tangled. How fresh the dirt on his skin was and how old the dried blood was as well. But it was the way the boy cried that had Mana’s chest ache so much: it sounded so raw and hoarse, like he had been at it for hours and no one had bothered to help him. It sounded broken too, like he had no hope left.

Mana took a knee right in front of the shivering and sobbing boy, his chest pounding. For some reason, this crying boy whose face he hadn’t even seen yet reminded him of Nea. Why it did, he had no idea.

Suddenly, the young one stopped crying. He stopped shaking and he slowly lifted his head in a weak fashion, as if there had been a large weight settled on the back of his neck. Once again, Mana was reminded of Nea. Whereas his brother had ashen skin and black crosses on his forehead, this boy had a large red mark covering almost the entire left side of his face.

Above his snow white eyebrow was a mark in the shape of an upside-down star; a pentagram. Near the bottom edge of said pentagram, a thick vertical line trailed down his left eyelid and to his cheek. Nestled on his cheekbone, a thin horizontal line slashed across the vertical line. The thick line that went over his eye shot to his further left near the middle of his cheek and curved in to nearly touch his small and dirt-scuffed chin, much like a lightning bolt.

His eyes were of the brightest silver Mana had ever seen. But those gainsboro eyes were bloodshot and puffy, which only diluted the color. When the small boy realized that he was staring him up and down, he curled his lips back to reveal his teeth, canines unusually sharp for a child. When Mana continued to stare at the boy, his actions were met with low growling from said child.

He couldn't have been a day over six from Mana's calculations; so young, brittle, fragile looking even. Yet past the dirt and blood on his skin and the puffiness in his bloodshot eyes, he attempted to be fierce. The white-haired boy pulled his back away from the cold brick wall and slouched forward, eyes now glaring sharply at the stranger in front of him.

Mana felt a sudden urge sweep over him, that churning in the pit of his stomach coming back again: there was something there, a connection as it seemed. Maybe it was the snowy atmosphere, or the way that time seemed to freeze the longer he stared at the young boy. Or perhaps it was how he sat out here, crying and alienated, looking as strange as his former brother.

He didn’t want this child to feel cast out like he and his brother had been; how they were constantly tossed aside just from his brother’s looks and incomprehensible abilities. It made his heart ache to see such a young boy cast aside. He wanted to help him in that instant, no matter what.

Cautiously, Mana reached out his right hand to try and brush the tears away from the young child's face. However, his actions had only caused the child to react violently. With a smack feeling more like a punch containing strength that such a young boy should not possess, Mana's hand was slapped away. He could feel the feverish stinging even through the white gloves covering his hands.

Why did this boy possess such strength in a body that appeared to be so feeble? On the contrary, he looked rather malnourished. But his question was answered sooner than he thought. The burlap material covering the child's torso slipped on the left side. Mana was in for yet another surprise.

The dirty gray shirt two sizes too big for him was ripped towards the shoulder, and what should have been his left arm was displayed for the twenty-eight year old to see. Thick and deep crimson red skin that was textured to look more like scales covered the entirety of his left arm. It started at the shoulder and snaked all the way down to his fingers. His fingernails looked like they were painted black, but Mana could even tell that this was not the case. They were just simply _black,_ like his arm was just simply _red._

Embedded into the back of his hand was a cross shaped crystal colored a deep obsidian black with a faint green glow emanating from within. He had never seen anything like it before, but deep down, somewhere within him knew it had something to do with the incomprehensible things he could not understand all those years ago.

This child just kept reminding him of Nea for some reason and Mana couldn’t understand why.

When the child realized his burlap cover had slipped from his body, he was quick to gather it back up and cover his arm again. His eyes whipped back accusingly towards Mana, telling him without words to just ‘ _get lost’._ However, Mana was adamant about staying here. He made sure to display that in his own sharp eyes back towards the boy.

He felt like he _needed_ to help this child, the pull in his head telling him so.

With another steady hand, Mana reached for the white-haired child again. This time, instead of wanting to wipe the tears from his eyes, he reached for his small deformed arm. A lump that could only be the child's left arm rose up from under the burlap, the limb poised like a serpent in waiting for its prey. He was going to strike Mana again if he got too close.

Ignoring the subtle hint, Mana gently curled his fingers around the arm. From what he could feel, his fingers had grasped the boy's wrist. He wanted to help him, but he also didn’t want to be smacked again –that boy’s red arm had an uncanny amount of power in it. It made him wonder where the child had even come from in the first place.

The white-haired child began to try and jerk his arm back, but was unable to break the strong hold in the end. Realizing he could not tear himself free, he began to scream and thrash about wildly. In his fit, he knocked over one of the empty wooden vegetable crates next to him. It hit the ground with a loud _clunk_ against the pavement, loose planks of wood splitting off the crate from the force of the drop.

Mana gently pulled the boy's arm closer to him, trying to be as soft as he could so he would not injure the frightened little one. Aforementioned little one thrashed with even more fury, his normal right arm trying to slap and claw at Mana's hand still holding his left arm prisoner. The twenty-eight year old had to admit the boy's rather long and chipped fingernails did sting even through the cloth of his swallowtail overcoat, but he pressed forward.

He couldn’t just leave this scared child here. He was only violent because he was scared, and why wouldn’t he be? Out on the street, dirty and cold, and now all of a sudden found and seen by a strange man who was not going to leave him alone. But he was going to do all he could to help this poor soul that reminded him of his brother.

With a bit of force, Mana pulled the boy away from the brick wall and close to his torso. When the small one was close enough, his right hand dropped the little left arm and his broad arms swallowed the frail child into a warm hug. The white-haired boy thrashed about wildly, trying to break free.

Mana had a feeling that the child would calm down when he realized he wasn’t out to hurt him. So he held on, tightly, but gently as well.

After a few panicked moments in the warm embrace, the white-haired boy began to simmer down and stopped trying to hit him. Eventually, his small body seemed to melt into Mana’s, as if to embrace the warmth and comfort he lacked in this alley. The way the little one fit against him felt like interlocking puzzle pieces being matched together. Somehow, it made Mana feel complete, much how he felt when Nea was still around and well. It felt like home.

But now that the child had been pacified, the question as to why he was out here in the first place came to mind. While he still had the chance, he spoke,

"What’s a little one like you doing out here all by yourself?” Mana asked. He felt he already knew the answer, but decided to ask the question anyways.

Abruptly, the boy yanked himself away from Mana, obvious hurt swelling behind his gainsboro eyes. Fresh tears squeezed themselves from his bloodshot eyes and followed the tracks of earlier tears cried from before.

"They said they didn’t need me anymore.” He stated softly, his voice still holding that sweet innocence of a child about his age. Yet as it was sweet, it was tainted in pain.

"They? Like your mother and father?” Mana coaxed gently, shifting his weight slightly as he left his left leg beginning to fall asleep.

The white-haired boy shook his head no, “I don’t have parents. But they, those people, they took care of me.”

Again, Mana wasn’t sure who this ‘they’ was. Apparently it was more than one person, a group maybe? If he thought about it, this boy looked strange: white hair, silver eyes, pentagram mark on his face, and a crimson red arm with a cross embedded in it. Perhaps he came from somewhere much more disturbing and a lot less homely.

“If they took care of you, then why are you here now, child?” Mana asked, taking a moment to shift his weight again.

“They didn’t need me anymore. They said I failed the tests and I wasn’t good enough for the big plan.”

“I see. How were you ‘not adequate’ in these tests, if you don’t mind my asking?”

The white-haired boy looked to the cross embedded in his red hand, “They said I couldn’t make my innocent wake up like all the others. They called me a fluke…But I don’t know what that is.”

Innocent? Why did that sound familiar? He felt like he had heard that term before or at least something similar to it. It was hazy, but he thought he remembered someone that Nea knew talking about it to them both. Aside from that, nothing else rang any bells.

But Mana was at least able to piece together how this boy failed his ‘tests’. Whatever it was for, it sounds like he had been tested for a while and it involved the cross in his hand. But since he couldn’t get it to ‘wake up’ like the ‘others’, that meant whatever that cross was meant to do wasn’t doing its intended purpose, and that there were other like this boy that could ‘wake up’ their ‘innocents’.

The boy wiped some tears from his eyes with his normal hand and hiccupped, “I just wanted to be good enough! But they…they said I wasn’t, an-and then they tried to take my cross out, but they couldn’t do it, s-so they hit me and I fell asleep and then…then I woke up here.”

Mana understood better now. This boy couldn’t do what the people looking after him wanted him to do and they felt like he wasn’t worth the effort to keep around. So they tried to take the cross out of his red hand, but they couldn’t, so instead they just knocked him out and dumped him here. If that was the case, then they didn’t want the child to know where he was, or they didn’t want him to come back either.

It made Mana feel sick to his stomach. He still didn’t know why the child looked so strange, but now that he knew he was used and tossed aside because he wasn’t ‘good’, it made him tick. It very much reminded him of his own situations with Nea; how they never fit in, how it was only them against the world, how they were used until one of them was killed. But this boy, he was just that, a _boy._ He wasn’t a teenager or an adult, and he was already being cast aside for being deemed ‘unworthy’. No child should be treated like that.

Mana pulled the white-haired boy back to him again, wrapping him up in another warm embrace. He didn’t want to hear that sad sounding crying anymore; it made him feel uneasy and strangely hollow. He had met this boy no more than ten minutes ago, but he already felt strangely close to him. His gentle hold caused the young child to mellow out a little and stop crying.

“When did those selfish people leave you here?” Mana asked, not really knowing how long the child had been on the streets. Judging from his appearance it had to have been for a decent amount.

“Umm…The trees were green then, but now they’re all brown.” The boy responded as he sniffed and wiped his eyes again.

This young boy had been out on the street since either the spring or summer. Either way, that was much too long for a child to be out on the streets and all alone. So what if he didn’t pass any ‘tests’? Why did that give those people the right to throw this child away like he was nothing? It just brought up bitter memories.

Mana did not want what happened to him and Nea to happen to this child. The voice in his head and the churning in his gut had all but died away now. So it was the presence of this child that brought him here. But why him? Why this child? More importantly, why did he feel so connected to this young boy? Regardless, he was not going to let this little one suffer out on the streets anymore where he was subjected to torment and ridicule for his looks, having to fight just to stay alive.

“Tell me, little one, what’s your name?” Mana asked.

“The people called me lots of things, but A1-3N was one they liked to use a lot.”

What kind of name was A1-3N? That wouldn’t suffice at all. Al sounded normal enough, but just didn’t seem to ring right. But if Mana thought about it, that combination of letters and numbers could spell…

“How about we call you Allen?”

“Al…Len?” The white-haired boy mimicked.

“Yes, I think it’s a fine name. What do you think, Allen?” Mana asked with a soft smile.

Tears swam in the boy’s eyes as a tiny smile broke out over his face, “that’s…the nicest name I ever got called.”

Mana smiled in return, “Well then, Allen, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mana Walker, and I have a little proposition for you. How would you like to leave this tiny alleyway and stay with me instead?”

The boy, Allen, looked happy at first, but then a hesitant look settled on his face. He looked at his red arm, then to the cross embedded in it. The others didn’t keep him because of this. They said he was a pathetic parasite-type, whatever that meant. Would this man toss him aside if he couldn’t pass his tests too? But Mana sensed the unease in the white-haired boy and gently placed his gloved hand over the red hand and cross in front of him.

“Don’t be worried about that. You won’t have to pass any tests with me.”

Mana saw Allen’s eyes widen for a moment before they began to shine a bit. Even though his eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, they held a bright spark of life in them now where there was not one before. He smiled when the little one nodded his head and agreed, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. Mana wiped the moisture from his face.

“You don’t have to cry anymore, little one.”

Allen nodded again and made a small, yet happy noise of agreement.


	2. A Place To Call Home

Allen felt almost hesitant about leaving the alley he had spent so long in. On one side, he was glad the nice man Mana was generous enough to open his home to him, but at the same time, this place was familiar. It was not strange nor was it foreign to him. He had adjusted to this place; this life. Aside from his turbulent past, this was all he knew.

He knew to take food when he was hungry, but to do it quick and quietly. He knew how to defend his territory if need be, never having to do more than growl and show off his red arm and pentagram-marked face. He knew when he needed to disappear somewhere else for a while, lest others try to drive him away because of his devilish appearance.

He knew how to survive, nitty and gritty, but he had no idea how to _thrive_. Even when he was cared for by ‘them’ he did not flourish; only doing as he was told and nothing more, much like a tired old dog. But now he was about to enter completely new territory, one he was not familiar with at all.

There would be no tests, no stealing, no fighting, and no running. What would it be like staying with Mana? If there was none of that, then what was there? At the very least, he hoped there’d be more times where he was held again, it made him feel warm and safe; feelings he only experienced in fleeting moments. Perhaps this change was going to be better than what he was used to.

“Are you ready, Allen?” Mana asked softly.

Allen’s train of thoughts halted and he remembered that he was now standing near the edge of the alley next to Mana. They were just steps away from leaving it entirely, the reaches of the city awaiting them. He glanced behind him, his gainsboro eyes doing one last look through of the area he called home for quite some time.

The vegetable crates, the familiar trash bins, and the burlap cloth he left behind. Those objects were now covered in a fine layer of fresh snow as if to silently tell him to move on. Even the spot he had been sitting in was filled by the powdery snow. This place wasn’t for him anymore. Still feeling a little wary about leaving this place, Allen gently poked his head out from in between the two buildings and had a quick look around.

A deep green street lamp flickered from across the street, as if winking at him. The way the powdery snow that fell around and on top of the lamp made the night seem that much more serene. He tilted his head back to watch the snow fall from the cloudy gray sky, watching each unique flake tumble down and play with the wind.

While it was serene and beautiful outside the mouth of the alley, Allen felt nervous and anxious. What would it be like to finally step out of the shadows and into the light once more? The uncertainty made him fidget and the snow was unable to relax him. In fact, the longer he stared at the gray sky, the larger it seemed to become. He felt like the sky was going to suck him up and swallow him whole in its vast, gray entirety.

Allen let out a panicked cry and stumbled back into the comforting darkness of the alley. The tall buildings in between him immediately closed off the hungry sky and made it small again. He was starting to shake and his eyes began to water. But Mana just reached over and took a gentle hold of his right hand. He looked up at the older man with those tears still hiding in the corners of his eyes.

With his free hand, Mana brushed those tears away before they even had a chance to fall. He gave him a soft smile before he said, “It’s alright if you’re afraid. But just remember that you aren’t alone anymore.”

Allen wiped at his eyes as well, then he nodded. The hand wrapped around his gave a gentle squeeze and it made him feel secure again. Mana then took a small step forward, Allen doing the same. Now they were out of the alley and onto the street. Although, he had to shiver when his bare feet brushed against a dusting of cold snow on the ground. But the chill steadied him, helped to keep him grounded. That, and Mana’s hand encompassing his own kept him from feeling so frightened.

Then they took another step, and then another, until soon they had left the alley entirely and were now walking along the sidewalk. Mana walked a pace ahead of him in order to guide him as they traversed back to his home. Allen made sure his grip on the older man’s hand was tight as he walked next to him closely. He didn’t want to get separated from him even if he still had a vague idea of where he was.

But after turning corners and crossing streets, Allen no longer knew where he was, or even where he was being led to for that matter. He walked even closer to Mana, their legs nearly touching with each stride. But the older man didn’t seem to mind it –in fact, he heard a little hum come from him and his hand was lightly squeezed again. The action didn’t hurt at all and Allen found he rather liked it; it made him feel warm.

But the warmth quickly vanished when his silver eyes caught sight of a couple walking down the same sidewalk they were on. Instantly, he remembered how freakish he looked. It wasn’t new: being stared at in fear, or being screamed at and called a demon child. But now it seemed different. It didn’t bother him that much when he was alone, or was in the presence of ‘them’. The name calling stung a little, but it didn’t make him feel as scared as he did now.

Was it because of Mana? It _must_ be. He didn’t want the older man to know the horrible and nasty things he was called. If he did hear them, he might not want him around anymore…just like ‘ _them’_. What kind of person would willingly keep a child around after hearing others call them things like ‘ _Devil’_ , ‘ _Demon Child_ ’, or his least favorite, ‘ _Abomination_ ’?

He quickly closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to not let those people see him, but also not stray too far from Mana and become lost. What should he do? Maybe he should just turn around and run back to his alley after all. At least his alley didn’t make him feel so scared even if he _was_ out in the open.

Just when he was about ready to break away and hide, in one swift and fluid motion, Mana swept him off the ground and held him in the air for a moment. Allen was confused, and frankly a bit embarrassed. His face felt hot even in the cold and for some reason he couldn’t ask the older man what he was doing. But when that couple was just starting to walk by them, he was pulled down from the air and held in Mana’s arms instead, his head carefully nestled to a broad and warm chest. It felt so warm here, so safe and comforting.

But the couple passed by them without a word, noise, or insult. Allen would have glanced back to see if they had noticed his freakish features, but Mana’s gloved hand kept his head comfortably still in the same spot on his torso. But he did hear the couple talking, even though he couldn’t see them.

"Did you see how brilliantly _cute_ that little boy was, dear?" The woman enthused.

"I did, darling." The man responded back.

"That white hair was just so charming on him! You think it's natural? I wish _I_ had white hair like that..." The woman aimlessly began to ramble.

Her voice drifted away until Allen could no longer hear it. Only then was he able to lift his head up and glance around. When he did, his gray eyes locked with Mana’s brown ones and he was given a smile.

“You don’t have to worry about being ridiculed ever again. I promise I’ll keep you safe, Allen.”

He started to blush, his face burning feverishly and he had to glance away and look at something else. His frazzled reaction just made the man holding him chuckle a bit, the action sounding so fond and full of care. Then he started walking, not even bothering to set him down.

Allen was cautious when he went to place his head against Mana’s chest. He didn’t know if the man would be okay with it or not, but he also liked it when his head was resting there. He didn’t hear any complaint or reproach when he did finally tuck his head underneath Mana’s chin. In fact, he was given an endearing hum, the noise echoing in his small ear and rumbling through his body.

He felt so relaxed and at peace in that moment. He was snug, secure, and Mana promised that he’d keep him safe. Allen couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this at ease. All this warmth made his eyelids grow heavy and he began to feel sleepy. He closed his eyes for a moment, thankful that he broke away from familiarity. He’d no longer have to fight, steal, and lie just to stay alive. Now he could live feeling warm and safe. It was a wonderful feeling.

Mana smiled when he heard the softest of snores echo from under his chin.

* * *

 

"Allen?"

_'who's calling for me? Mana?'_

"Allen. It’s time to wake up."

_'Mm, but I feel so warm and comfy…'_

"Come on Sleeping Beauty, I think you've had a long enough nap."

_'No I haven't, I only closed my eyes for a little bit, Mana...'_

"Allen!"

_'...'_

Allen finally opened his eyes, having to take a minute to do so since his eyelids were so heavy. Did he actually fall asleep? It only felt like he had just rested his eyes for a few moments. He just wanted to close them again now that they were open, but before he had the chance to, Mana patted his back to rouse him from his tired state a little more. He made a small noise of discomfort, not wanting the heavy warmth to go away yet. The older man hummed an amused note again but didn’t stop patting him on the back.

Allen finally gave up the thought of resting his eyes and just rubbed the sleepiness out of them instead. Once he seemed adequately awake enough, Mana finally set him down.

“This is your home now, Allen.”

Once he said that, Allen was quick to wake up more and take a look around his surroundings while Mana shed his heavy winter clothing.

The living room was a bit on the small side, but not suffocating. Cozy: that’s how this room felt. Situated at the far end of the furthest wall was a brick fireplace. A few small pictures decorated the mantle. There was a small coffee table with a glass center a few feet from the fireplace and two comfortable looking chairs sat on either side of it. A radio and a book sat against the table undisturbed.

Sitting a few feet away from the fireplace on the left was a bookshelf with all six shelves lined and packed tight with all kinds of literature. On the other side of the fireplace, a large floor lamp with a white shade over it sat stationary. It gave the living room a soft glow of light that reminded the boy of a gentle evening.

Siting right next to the floor lamp was a tall pine tree adorned in multi-colored bulbs and strewn with shimmering red and gold garland. Atop the tree was a small angel with white wings and a little yellow halo above her head. A red cloth tree skirt hugged the base of the tree and hid the stump underneath it.

To the right of the living room was the kitchen. A peninsula counter separated it from the living room and light colored barstools sat in front of it. A tiny dining room that looked suited more for two sat at the end of the kitchen.

Finally, to the left of the living room was a small dark hallway. The bedroom and bathroom were probably down there, but it was just a bit too dark to know for sure.

And it was warm here. Just about as snug and warm as Mana himself. Allen already liked it here and he was just seeing it for the first time. He really hoped the man wouldn’t change his mind and toss him out after all. The thought made him deflate a little. Maybe he shouldn’t get too used to it here. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he was thrown away.

Catching on to Allen’s sudden change in posture, Mana spoke up, "Allen, come with me."

The young child followed after the older man, but it didn’t seem like his chipper mood had returned. He noticed that Mana wasn’t wearing those heavy clothes anymore. His hat was gone, which revealed his short black hair, and now his clothes were just a nice white shirt, pants, and his gloves.

They both entered the dark hallway together and they traveled down it until Mana found the right room. It was in the middle of the hall on the left. He reached in and felt around for a switch, and when he felt it, was quick to flick it up.

A light flickered in this room before blaring to its full intensity. This room was the bathroom. The walls were the same color as the living room, though the floor was white tile instead of carpet. A porcelain white tub sat on the right side with an equally white cloth curtain covering half of it. Across from the tub was the bathroom sink, which behind that was the toilet. The entire room was washed in different shades of white, but not bright enough to hurt the eyes.

Mana walked over to the bathtub and crouched down in front of it, reaching over and twisting the knobs to get the water flowing. It started with a squeak and a whine before the water actually came out of the faucet. He let the water run for a moment, taking his gloves off while it did. He stuck his now bare hands under the spray of the rushing liquid, getting a feel for a good temperature.

When one was achieved, Mana used a plug to stop the drain and keep the water from emptying out. When he glanced behind him, he saw Allen looking at him with curiosity. But there was also something else shimmering in his gainsboro eyes; it looked like uncertainty.

But why did he look so downcast all of a sudden? He seemed to be happy when Mana brought him inside, so what changed? Taking a moment to think about it, Allen was on the streets in the first place because the ‘they’ that the child kept referring to had thrown him out when he was no longer of any use. He didn’t have anywhere else to go and with his appearance like so, no one would take him in either.

He realized Allen was afraid of being abandoned again.

Mana used his left hand to motion the young one over to him while his right one shut off the water from the faucet. By the time the water stopped dripping and a small trail of steam was rising from the bath, the young white-haired boy stood in front of him with those same hesitant eyes. There was a small smile on his face, but it didn’t reach the rest of him and it looked more pitiful than anything.

Mana just reached out and wrapped Allen into a comforting embrace, regardless of the dirt and dried blood still caked to his skin and tattered clothes. The child was hesitant about the contact at first and tensed up, as if not wanting to get used to it. But it didn’t take long for him to relax and engulf in the comforting hold.

“I meant what I said about keeping you safe, Allen.” Mana spoke, “So don’t worry, I’m not going to toss you aside like the others; that’s a part of my word.”

It was then that the young boy was completely at ease and melted into the embrace like warmed butter. They didn’t speak for a moment, but there was no need. The comfortable silence was enough confirmation to set those words in stone. Besides, Mana didn’t think he’d even be capable of leaving Allen behind; that unspoken connection in his head wouldn’t allow him to. It was just like being close to Nea, but a little different.

Mana finally let the white-haired boy out of his grasp and gave him his space again. When he looked into those silvery eyes, the uncertainty was gone and that sparkle of comfort had returned.

“With that taken care of, I believe it’s time we get you cleaned up.”

Allen glanced over to the tub full of warm water, watching the gentle trail of steam pool around the rim. He couldn’t even recall if he had ever gotten a bath before. He did remember getting quick wash-downs from ‘them’, but those weren’t warm and they weren’t gentle either. The water was more like a spray and when it hit him it always stung like needles. He remembered that the younger children like him were given baths, but only because they were too small for the wash-downs. Either that, or they could make their innocents wake up and were treated better because of that.

Come to think of it, it was only him that was ever handled roughly. All the others like him were treated so much better. If only he could make his innocent –or whatever ‘they’ called it, wake up, then maybe he wouldn’t have been tossed aside. His eyes glanced to Mana. But if it wasn’t for being thrown away, then he wouldn’t be here with Mana right now; feeling warmer and safer than he had ever felt before. At least it was never cold here. It was always cold in ‘that’ place.

“Is something the matter?” Mana asked, noting how he was being stared at.

“I…I’ve never had a bath before.” Allen admitted as he pulled himself away from his thoughts.

“Never? Surely the place that used to care for you cleaned you off somehow?”

“Well, they gave me wash-downs, but those hurt. They just sprayed me with water that felt like needles.”

Mana’s eyes hardened when Allen finished speaking. At first, the white-haired boy thought he had done something wrong. He instinctively backed away from the older man, only stopping abruptly when his back hit the tub. He knew what ‘they’ did when they were mad; they were mean and scary and they took it out on him even if it wasn’t his fault. But he had no idea what Mana did when he was mad.

But the older man was very quick about softening his eyes when he realized he had upset him, “I’m not angry with you, Allen,” He stated, “I’m just rather riled with how those people treated you.”

“I didn’t do anything bad?” Allen asked with a small voice. He kept his back pressed to the tub, hoping that his question wouldn’t further rile him up.

“Not at all, little one.” Mana responded sincerely.

Allen was cautious about peeling himself away from the bathtub, but when it looked like the older man wasn’t going to get angry again, he dropped some of that wariness and stood in front of him, albeit shyly.

“Well, since you’ve never had a proper bath before, then I assume you don’t really know how to clean yourself, do you?” Mana asked.

Allen shook his head no, “All ‘they’ did was spray me with water and then tell me to dry myself off, so, no I guess…”

“Alright then, I’ll help you out, but first I’m going to see if I can find you any clean clothes to wear.” Mana stated as he made his way to the bathroom door. He glanced over his shoulder before saying, “I’ll be right back, so wait right there for me.”

When the young child nodded in agreement, Mana broke away to head to his own bedroom. While standing there in solitude, Allen took a moment to glance around the bathroom, not having ever been in such a nice place before. His curious eyes roamed to the steam trailing lazily out of the tub, so he peered over the rim to get a better look –only to find his reflection staring back at him. He hadn’t seen himself in a long time, so he gasped in surprise when he did. He looked so ragged and dirty!

His hair which he knew was white ended up being more of a slate gray color, and most of his locks of oily hair were in mats and tangles, one of them in particular being bad enough that there was a puff of ratted hair sticking out from behind his left ear. His face was smeared in dirt and his skin just looked gritty like sand. His eyes were so puffy and bloodshot that he could barely see the white of his own sclera.

His pentagram mark just seemed to stand out like some kind of brand. It made the rest of his appearance seem dull and sun-bleached in comparison. He truly looked like a demon child with that demonic, bright red marking portraying as his stigmata. He looked to his red arm in disdain. His arm had been this way for as long as he could remember, it was just a part of him just like his facial marking.

He hated it in that moment, despised it and wished it wasn’t there.

How on earth had Mana looked past his horrid form? Why was he so kind to a monstrous child like him? He didn’t understand. ‘They’ kept him around because of the cross in his hand, but even ‘they’ couldn’t look past his horrible deformities. How did the older man do it? How was he not afraid of him?

Thinking about it made him feel dejected and upset all over again. He felt his eyes starting to water and he was quick to try and wipe the moisture away. Now he felt ashamed of his tears too. But even though he wiped them away, they just came back and fell out of his eyes before he had time to do it again. When he realized he couldn’t stop the tears from coming, he just started crying again.

As soon as he started to sob, he heard heavy steps quickly making their way back to the bathroom and he knew it was Mana. But he just kept his eyes glued to his horrid looking reflection and wept. It didn’t take long for those stepping sounds to echo through the hallway before stopping in the bathroom.

“Allen, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Mana quickly asked.

He heard the man set something to the side, then he was swiftly wrapped up into another embrace. But Allen didn’t feel like being held right now. He fought in the hold with a whine and tried to tug himself away.

“What’s gotten into you, child?”

“ _How?_ ” Allen cried, “How come you don’t find me icky? I look so freaky and yukky!”

That made Mana’s chest tighten.

_‘I look rather repulsing, don’t I, Mana?’_

This was just like his younger brother all over again. This poor, poor child had such a great burden to bear on his shoulders. Nea had at least been a young adult when his transmogrification happened, but Allen was just a small child probably no older than six. The connection he felt seemed to grip him tightly, circling around him and binding his chest.

Instead of hurrying to console the child, he just took a deep and steady breath before saying, “Some time ago, years ago in fact, I had a younger brother…and he looked a lot like you.”

Those words were enough to get Allen to stop fighting to break away from Mana’s hold. Tears still streamed down his face, but he was no longer sobbing and screaming.

“I’m not sure how, but one day, my younger brother –Nea, his skin changed colors right in front of me. He turned gray, and black crosses formed on his forehead too.” He explained.

Allen was silent.

“He asked me if he looked repulsing, or icky, as you put it. At first, I was a little frightened, but he was still my brother and I still cared for him very much…”

The young boy sniffed gently.

“So no, I don’t find you freaky or yukky. You remind me very much of my dearly departed brother… so much so that I couldn’t just stand by and let what happened to him happen to you. I don’t want you to feel alienated, or scared, or however it is that you feel. I want you to feel safe and secure, not scared and ashamed.”

Allen was sobbing again, but this time it wasn’t due to disgust with himself.

“You’re very special, Allen, and I want you to believe that too. The people who tossed you aside just couldn’t see that like I could.” Mana broke the hold long enough to pull away from the child and look him in the eyes, giving him a sincere smile, “Now, what say we dry those tears and get you all cleaned up?”

Allen nodded and wiped at his puffy eyes again, which in turn caused the older man to smile at him again. When Mana told him to shimmy out of his clothes and step into the bath, he did so without a fuss. The water was warm and relaxing, nothing like his previous wash-down experiences had gone.

There wasn’t a lot of talking while the young child bathed. It was relatively quiet between the two as Mana helped Allen wash himself off the proper way, rather than being sprayed down with sharp water. The young child kept his eyes mainly on his reflection in the water, even if it started to become murky when the grime and dirt was cleansed from his skin. He did have to close his eyes for a moment when his face was washed, just in case any soap tried to get in his eyes.

But he watched his reflection become less haggard and more colorful the longer he was cleaned. Mana didn’t seem to mind doing the work and whenever he did catch a glance of the older man’s face in the murky water, he appeared to be smiling. He followed directions when he was told; tilting his head back to rinse his hair, closing his eyes when soap was applied to those dirty locks, and keeping them closed when the soap was rinsed out. He lifted his arms when he was told, leaned forward when he was instructed too, and he even took the lead himself when it came to washing areas the older man couldn’t reach.

But the way Mana phrased his instructions made it seem like less of an order and more of a suggestion. It was nothing like the place he had come from originally: he wasn’t instructed how to do something with care, but rather demanded to do something beyond his capabilities. But here, nothing felt like an order or a demand. He didn’t feel like less of a person whenever there wasn’t something he could or knew how to do –like bathe for example.

He was actually treated like a normal person here, not just a number with untapped power. He was happy. Eventually, he wanted to believe Mana when he said he was special, but right now, he still couldn’t see it himself. He felt that he still just looked like a demon in human skin. But at least now when he looked at his reflection in the murky water, he didn’t look so dirty.

His hair was white again, his eyes looked less bloodshot, and even his skin looked creamy and unblemished. The pentagram mark on the left side of his face was still there, but now it didn’t feel as standout-ish as before.

“Here.” Mana spoke up.

Allen pulled his eyes away from his reflection with a bit of a start. He was so caught up in his thoughts and his reflection that he didn’t even realize he wasn’t being washed anymore. A towel was held out for him to take.

“Go ahead and dry yourself off.”

Allen took the towel with a nod and squeezed the excess water out of his hair first. When Mana turned around to grab the clothes –and probably give him a little bit of privacy, Allen stepped out of the bath and dried the rest of himself off. The towel was soft and fluffy and it reminded him of a fuzzy sheep. The older man then held out the clothes he had found for him to take, although he still kept his eyes averted. Courteous.

The people that abandoned him didn’t even give him this kind of privacy. It was kind of nice, not having someone breathing down his neck at every waking second of the day. Allen took the clothing offered to him and made quick work of changing into them. But he didn’t realize how large the garments would be until he was actually wearing them!

The cotton button-up shirt draped down to his knees and the sleeves completely swallowed his hands and arms, in fat he didn’t even think his hands reached the elbows of the sleeves at all! And the pants, sweet saccharin, were those big! His feet didn’t even make it to the knees of the pants and the rest of the material pooled across the floor.

“Umm…” Allen drawled.

Mana turned back around, and when he saw Allen in those large clothes too many sizes too big for him, he started to chuckle heartily. “Oh my!” He laughed.

For some reason that just cause the white-haired boy to blush and he glanced away to look at something else. But the older man was soon crouched in front of him and was already rolling up one of the shirt sleeves, which just had Allen looking at him again even with that blush still painted on his cheeks.

“My, my, indeed. I knew these would be quite large on you, but I didn’t expect them to swallow you up so much.” Mana remarked with a charmed smile.

Allen kept bashfully quiet as the older man worked on rolling his shirt sleeves up. He did so until his hands were free, then he moved on to do the same thing with the pants, rolling those up until his feet were free too.

Once that was done, Mana nodded his head and smirked. “Well, you’re looking much better already. Come have a look.”

Allen was then swept up into the older man’s arms, then sat down onto the free counter space where the sink was. He was staring face to face with himself; his reflection wasn’t blurry and murky anymore, but rather sharp and clear now. His hair and eyes looked much brighter in the glass. His skin had some kind of soft glow to it that he didn’t know he had before. Aside from his eyes still looking a bit puffy and red, he could see the silvery gray much better and it didn’t look so dull. The clothes on his body may fit him extremely loose, but at least he didn’t look dirty in them.

Aside from his red arm and the pentagram mark on his face, he almost looked like a normal child. But he didn’t get to stare at his astonished face for long, because he was soon finding himself yawning so deeply that he closed his eyes out of reflex.

“I suppose it’s about time to put you to bed. It is getting quite late.” Mana recalled.

He pulled Allen off the counter and held him in his arms before he stepped out of the bathroom, keeping the light on in order to light up the hallway they were now in. He turned to his left and walked down the rest of the hallway, soon going to open the door at the very end of the hall. He opened it with a pop and a squeal, the door complaining about not being used for so long.

The light from the bathroom washed into the new room and Allen took a moment to see what was inside. It was rather small, but he didn’t mind that. He saw a small brass-framed daybed tucked into the furthest corner of the room where quilts and pillows decorated it. There was a small end table next to the bed, where a small oil lamp sat unused. There was a squatty dresser situated against the wall across from the bed and a few small abstract sculptures adorned it.

The carpet and walls were the same color as the living room, but this room had some pictures hanging up. One was of a sunset over a deep blue ocean, and the other was of a lion and a lamb laying together in the same colorful meadow.

“This is the spare bedroom. But starting today, it’s yours now, Allen.” Mana declared.

This room…was his? Allen’s eyes glanced over all objects in the room again, as if he had been hearing things wrong. But he didn’t mishear or imagine it; Mana said this room was _his_. He couldn’t believe he actually had something to call his own. Back in the place he used to be, he didn’t even have his own bed, let alone his own room. He felt even happier now. He didn’t think he’d ever get to feel this happy.

But another yawn spread across his face and reminded him how tired he was beginning to grow. He was clean, safe, warm, and in a place he could call his own. He was content and relaxed and sleep was calling his name.

Mana smiled as he brought Allen through the room and to the bed. He pulled one arm away from the boy long enough to pull back the quilts on the bed, then was careful about guiding the little one out of his arms and was just as delicate when he laid him down on the bed. He pulled the covers back up and tucked them around the child’s shoulders nice and snug, having to grin a little wider when he saw a smile forming on the face below his.

“Sleep well, Allen. I’ll be in my room, so don’t hesitate if you need anything.”

“Okay, good night, Mana.” Allen responded with an easy smile.

With that, Mana spun on his heel and walked out of the room, cracking the bedroom door behind him, but not shutting it all the way. Shortly after, the light in the bathroom was turned off, then the sound of the older man entering his own room was heard before it fell silent again.

He tried to fall asleep. He really did try. But for some reason, now that he was laying down, he found it hard for his mind to settle down long enough to let him sleep. So for a few moments, Allen laid there. He stared at the oil lamp, stared out the window, stared at his odd left arm. He stared at the painting behind him, the one on the wall in front of him, stared at the foot of the bed. He shifted many times and fidgeted even more.

Eventually, he relied on counting sheep to keep him from fidgeting. He closed his eyes and pictured fuzzy white sheep jumping out of their pen and into an open field…one, two, three, four…

He made it all the way to twelve before he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry late Christmas/Kwanzaa to all who celebrate it!  
> Finally got around to getting things done, so I was finally able to update after a long time. I'll try not to wait that long next time ^^;

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Don't hesitate to leave a comment or kudo and let me know what you thought, it really keeps the ole' self-esteem train chugging!
> 
> And also, I gave Allen his post-Mana appearance to better fit the fic :3
> 
> Til' next time!


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